Adam's breathing came in short, uneven bursts. Sweaty and trembling, he leaned against the cabin wall while the girl beside him tried to catch her breath. Both were covered in mud, leaves stuck to their clothes, and adrenaline pulsing to the limit.
Outside, the sound of Jason's blade scraping slowly against the wood echoed like a death omen.
Raaaasshhh…
The monster knew they were in there. He didn't need to run. He never did. Time and silence were his allies.
"Are you okay?" Adam asked, trying to keep his voice low but steady.
The girl nodded, eyes wide.
"My name is Larissa… I think I got thrown here too," she replied, breathless, her voice shaking. "This is real, right?"
Adam let out a humorless laugh.
"Unfortunately."
She looked around, scanning the shadows in the cabin. Every dark corner seemed to hide something worse than the last. The ceiling dripped steadily, and the smell of mold and rust was almost suffocating.
"I found a partial map," Adam said, pulling a crumpled paper from his backpack. "It doesn't show everything, but we can tell where we are. This cabin is isolated, but there's a lake ahead... and maybe an old security outpost."
Larissa looked at the map, swallowing hard.
"This is Camp Crystal Lake, isn't it?"
Adam nodded. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to stay strong.
CLANG!
They both jumped at the sudden noise. Something — or someone — slammed into the side of the cabin. The wood trembled, and a crack formed in the weakest wall.
"He's going to break in," Larissa whispered, pale as a sheet.
Adam looked at the items he had found earlier. The lighter. The tools. A broken flashlight. Everything seemed useless against something like Jason.
But then, something clicked.
"He hates fire," he said, more to himself than to her.
"What do you mean?"
"In the movies... he reacted to fire. Got more aggressive, sure, but… he hesitated. Maybe we can use that."
Larissa looked around and pointed to an old, heavy curtain.
"This stuff could catch fire fast. If we make a trap, we might buy time to run."
Adam didn't hesitate. He tore the fabric, soaked part of it in oil from a fallen lamp, and tied it to a beam near the door. Larissa prepared the lighter, shaking so badly she nearly dropped it.
The sound of heavy footsteps drew closer. Jason was there. Standing still. As if listening. As if feeling the fear inside every wall.
Then, utter silence.